


Ruby wine effect

by Terfle



Category: The Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire
Genre: F/M, Late Night Conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 09:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12478368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terfle/pseuds/Terfle
Summary: When Elphaba visits Avaric, they pass an evening in his study with some edibles. Slight mishmash of a chapter in the book





	Ruby wine effect

He poured her a glass of red wine. In the candle light it shimmered like dragons blood, a molten ruby trapped in a glass. It looked expensive. She thought it was. Avaric could afford it, she reckoned. They sat opposite each other in his study eating their way through an entire lime pie with a large dish of saffron cream, Elphaba’s one culinary weakness. Normally she cared little for food but having tasted such a delicacy before, she was secretly pleased to have the chance at eating more.

They talked of their Shiz days, Elphaba jogging his memories on several incidents and happenings, him recollecting the way he had tied a sleeping tipsy Boq to the bed in just his oversized underpants, classroom banter and the several illicit drinking and smoking gatherings that had happened in his dorms.

‘I met him before I came here. He’s probably still wearing those.’

‘How’s the old duffer doing?’

‘Well. Wife, millions of children, a little farm. Become distinguished with age.’

Avaric roared with laughter at the thought.

‘And Fiyero?’ She tried to mention him casually and watching him screw up his handsome face and think back to that time. By that reaction she was certain that he wouldn’t remember a lot and wouldn’t think much of her request.

‘From one of the mountain tribes? Blue scales on his face?’

‘Something like that.’ She let it go.

They lapsed into conversation about Crope and Tibbet, those prattling nimwits who were the butt of many of the students jokes. Elphaba found it somewhat relaxing, something that would normally have tensed her shoulders for days on end. Or maybe it was the wine. It probably was the wine. As the evening wore on, they kicked off their boots and settled into the cushions, lapsing into long silences where both were lost in their own memories or delusions.

‘That Glinda, she was one of the prancing pouting bimbos to rule them all’ remarked Avaric drunkenly. ‘Nice breasts though. ‘

‘Can’t say I noticed’ she lied dryly. Everyone could see them from a mile off and she had to share a room with them. ‘Her shoes were more of a priority back then. She’s done well for herself though, hasn’t she?’

 ‘Married some bigwig and living the life of luxury’ he sighed, emptying the rest of the flagon into his glass. Elphaba raised an eyebrow.

‘Not like you’re living comfortably here or anything’ she hinted.

‘Could always be a bit more comfortable.’ He grinned at the thought. ‘I do remember Fiyero though. If that’s what you were asking about, really.’

‘You teased him mercilessly’ the green girl reminded him, licking the last of the saffron cream off of her fingers.

‘He was alright I suppose. A bit quiet.’

Curiosity got the better of her.

‘What he talk about? Did he mention anyone in particular?’

‘His family sometimes. Boring stuff. Nothing about you.’

She looked up and met his arrogant eyes.

‘Why would you think that?’ She narrowed her eyes belligerently at him; inside a spark of light had jolted her heart awake for a second.

‘Well I figured that a couple of freaks like you might have gotten on with each other at some point’ he said, reaching for the last sliver of pie.

She considered it, weighed up the pros and cons of setting his own pack of dogs on him and then shrugged. She was too drunk to care.

‘Thanks.’ She concentrated on scouring out the dish with her spoon for those last crumbs trapped in the sticky syrup, the mechanical scraping reminding her of that nasty Tiktok thing of Madam Morrible’s. Reminding her of what she had done. She had killed her, hadn’t she? She was convinced that she had.

‘Did you ever meet blue scale freak again?’

‘They were diamonds’ she corrected without thinking. Realised what she’d said and looked up. It was his turn to be jolted out of drunkenness. He got the meaning.

‘Was he king of the mountain men by that point?’

‘Of a sort.’

‘Wife and kids?’

‘Something like that.’

‘You saucy bitch, Elphaba. Carrying on with a married man.’

She was about to protest, then saw his twinkling eye. Avaric had little moralistic driven conscience to trouble him; it was nothing more than a lark to him. He never asked what had become of the blue diamond boy and she never told him. Conversation turned to Pfannee’s and Shen Shen’s fake hairpieces and potentially pushed up cleavages. Avaric, true to form had shagged both of them at separate occasions and had never seen them since. Elphaba didn’t bother asking about his wife.

Looking into the remains of her glass of sweet drowsy dragon’s blood, Elphaba thought she could see that waterfall that was coming to get her, the one in the old legend. If only she could pass through it unscathed and live her life in peace with a book and a bunch of grapes.

She fell asleep curled up in her chair. Avaric, unusually gentlemanly, ended up draping a blanket over her. Observing the stream of jet that was her hair and eyelashes that all of a sudden came to his notice, he left the candle to burn out and retired to his own room, mentioning to his wife that a guest was there and would she send a maid to serve said sleeping guest in the morning? He wasn’t to know that it was the last time he’d see her.


End file.
